


Darling don't be afraid, i have loved you, for six thousand years

by kireiflora



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Armageddon, M/M, does aziraphale killing demons count as badass aziraphale?, the war - Freeform, the war is just one big battle really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 07:15:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20004406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kireiflora/pseuds/kireiflora
Summary: Armageddon is here, it wasn't stopped, and they are out of time.There is no 'our side'. If there ever was one.One way or another, only one of them will remain standing in the end.





	Darling don't be afraid, i have loved you, for six thousand years

**Author's Note:**

> I accidentally binged good omens so here I am, more angst fics to follow. I had a thought and screamed at the only good omens fan I knew about it and it hurt them so, here it is, 3500 words long.
> 
> I dunno what events exactly led to this, doesn't really matter, point is the war is here.

Despite their efforts, Armageddon was here, and the war was beginning.

Aziraphale's arms shook as he was prepared for battle. He believed in Her of course, and the Great Plan, but, this was never what he wanted. Especially because he knew that at the end of the day, he or Crowley would be gone. A stray thought wondered if Crowley was busy using the holy water from both long ago and yet just yesterday. He didn't know what would be worse, entering the battle and seeing Crowley fighting, or not seeing him again before the end, his own or his victory.

He shook such thoughts from his brain, either he would see Crowley or he wouldn't, either Crowley was dead or he wasn't. One of them would be by the end of the day, and in his heart he didn't want his last memory of the demon to be in the middle of a fight.

His grace filled him to bursting as the armies of heaven descended to earth, seeing the demons rising as well. There was a moment where both sides stared at each other, Beelzebub across from Gabriel, before both sides surged towards each other. While Aziraphale could've never killed a stray demon, here, where there were so many and everyone was fighting to the death, he found it surprisingly easy. This is what he was supposed to do, this is why the last 6000 years happened at all, he'd been trained for it, and much of that training returned to him.

He wasn't the best fighter, always hesitating for a moment just to be sure he wasn't about to strike Crowley down. If Crowley lived and heaven won, he didn't want to be the one to end him. The thought shook him to his core. As the tides turned and the angels were slowly overpowering the demons his heart ached, every flash of red hair sending a jolt of terror through him. (He refused to think on why that was, why his heart was crying out in pain even as they won. It was far too late for such thoughts.)

In the middle of a spin he froze, catching sight of _very_ familiar red locks, and there Crowley stood, still alive, looking worse for wear, eyes bare to the world, but alive and his heart felt like it would explode. There was black and blue blood streaked across him. Aziraphale was sure he was much the same.

For a shining, perfect moment, all he could feel was relief that his dearest friend still lived. Then he was jostled from behind and it came over him in a tidal wave, the angels were winning and Crowley was there, on the battlefield. He didn't think, just reacted, racing forward and swinging his sword.

Crowley spun to deflect it, stuttering to a stop after that, staring at Aziraphale with eyes full of pain and betrayal and something else he couldn't make out. A lump gathered in his throat as he made another clumsy swing, easily deflected by Crowley who looked confused rather than hurt now, glancing at Aziraphale as though he was someone else, before his eyes shined in sudden understanding, and he retaliated, easily telegraphed and avoided.

Relief surged through him, he and Crowley could fake fight, keeping Crowley safe from the other angels. He didn't know what would come after that, but for now, this could keep him safe, and had the bonus of Aziraphale not having to kill anyone else.

As they battled the fake sloppy hits became real sloppy hits, the drawn out battle draining both of their energy, leaving nearly no room for thought. The sounds of battle becoming softer and softer over time as the army of angels cut down demon after demon but still, Aziraphale could not think of a way out of this for Crowley. The quieter the battle got the harder his heart ached. He tried to beg with his eyes for Crowley to run away to the stars like he had threatened, anything to get him away from here.

The holy, blessed blade, felt heavier with every swing, terror and guilt and exhaustion all making things harder. Crowley stumbled again, a sign of the same thing happening for him, Aziraphale blinked and in that brief moment of blackness-

Eyes blinked open to the sight of his sword straight through Crowley. His hand dropped from the blade as his world came crashing down around his ears. The blade didn't move, still sticking straight through Crowley, burning away at him from its point of origin in his gut.

Around him angels cheered, he heard cries of "I can't believe he did it!" "Who knew he had it in him." "Guess he was never in danger of falling after all."

"Crowley." he said softly, brokenly, and the demon fell to the ground, the landing on his back forcing the sword upwards, but not out of his body. "Crowley-I-I-" he didn't have the words, as he fell to his knees, there was nothing to make this better.

Crowley locked eyes with him, yellow burning into blue, black wings spread across the ground, twitching their pain, and smiled.

\-----

Just a few hours previous, Crowley was alone in his flat, caressing his plants with gentle fingers, gazing at the thermos on his desk, face unreadable.

\-----

"Guess you were too fast for _me_ angel." Crowley says, still smiling at him as he reaches out and puts his bloody hand on top of Aziraphale's

The shock-terror-horror had held the tears back, but at that they spill down his cheeks as sobs start to wreak his body, "C-C-Crowley-" he's cut off by a sob.

"Shhh." Crowley says softly, "My side was always going to lose, my angel. There's no way I'd rather go." his hand moves, patting him, soft as a butterflies wings. "Don't feel bad, you did nothing wrong, everything's going to be fine now."

"NOTHING's going to be fine!" tears from his throat, hands shaking as they hover above Crowley, wanting to touch but not wanting to hurt him more with his grace, Words are nearly impossible to form through his grief and shock.

"But it is, heavens going to forgive you. I'm sorry to have done this to you, but, I was going to die no matter what, I wanted to at least, die doing something good." he says softly and what he's hinting at hits Aziraphale like a train, that he'd planned it to end like this, probably impaled himself on his sword.

"I've killed you and-and it doesn't matter if you caused it-and I've said such horrible things to you-you _are_ my friend Crowley," his mind is spinning through all the things he's said to him, but the gazebo sticks out to him, "Why didn't you just kill me, how could you ever forgive me instead and do something like this?" there's an unspoken _I want to be with you_ in there somewhere.

"For _you_ angel, anything." and then he's gone, hand dropping to the ground, and Aziraphale's alone on a battlefield. Having won the war, but lost everything. And he wishes desperately that god would smite him down, an assumed casualty of the war.

\-----

Crowley was right, Heaven welcomed him back with open arms. He had been thought of as soft, unwilling to kill a demon, but when it came down to the wire, not only had he killed demons, he'd killed his own friend. Consorting with him had been forgiven because he had killed him in the end.

It put such a bitter taste in his mouth. Those that had looked down on him suddenly saw him in a new light, and he would gladly give it all away for even a minute more with Crowley.

But that wasn't going to happen, She wasn't going to appear before him and restore Crowley to him, or give him another chance or any such foolishness, and he knew it.

For as much as he had hated Crowley for it, he understood why he'd wanted some holy water on hand. He'd searched for hellfire, but, it had been extinguished with the last of the demons. There was no relief to be found.

He went away, he couldn't stand to be around the angels acting like everything was fine, when it wasn't, and never would be. He explored the stars, with a helpful little guidebook, viewing all of that which Crowley had made before he Fell, he just wished he'd gotten to see before he fell.

When he finally returned to heaven, he didn't know how much time had passed but, he had found the one thing that made eternity even slightly bearable, and refused to answer to Aziraphale any longer. He was Anthony now, holding his memory close in his heart as the ages passed.

\-----

The night before the battle, Crowley's flat.

\-----

Crowley pushed himself back from his desk, willing the ink to dry with a wave of his hand and closing the book, murmuring a charm over it. The day he had been dreading for 11 years was finally here, there was very little time to prepare. It hurt that he had failed to stop armageddon, but, unlike all the other demons, he knew they would lose. Or maybe they knew and just wanted their existence to finally be over, it was a tempting idea on many occasions. That was part of the reason he had holy water, after all. He looked at the painting, wondering. Should he end it now? Spare his angel the pain of seeing him die?

He pulled the painting aside and opened the safe, holding the thermos gently, setting it on the desk and staring at it. He reached out, ready to end it early, but his hand came to a stop. There was still some time left, it would suck to kill himself only for everything to somehow turn out okay. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best.

The book sat, taunting him with all of its secrets. He waved his hand and vanished it from sight, what was done was done, he wasn't going to take it back.

A deep selfish part of him wanted to go to the bookshop, spend the final hours with Aziraphale in quiet peace. But that wasn't fair, it would just hurt his angel more in the end. He wouldn't burden him any more. One final time tomorrow, he would see him.

\-----

Hours before the battle

\-----

He took the thermos, carefully distributing it across the plants, he had no idea what it would do to them, but, a final act of kindness he supposed. Once he was done he placed it atop the still invisible book, casting another charm, ensuring only one angel would be able to pick it up.

It might be cruel, to leave all his secrets and musings (and _love_ ), only after he was dead, but who knew if Aziraphale would even ever see it, he might never bother coming to his flat at all, and the book would sit unread. Having wrote it all down made him able to prepare to go out to his death with no regrets. He had a plan, and it was going to work, and Aziraphale wouldn't have to worry about anything. It was going to hurt, he knew it would, it would hurt both of them.

But, if he was going to go out by a means other than his own hand, the only other way he wanted was at Aziraphale's. He didn't want to die at the name of a nameless angel who didn't know him.

He was going to die, he was allowed to be a little selfish, right?

He stood among his plants, which were glowing with heavenly energy that scorched him like a sunburn, running his hands over their leaves and murmuring to them, eyes on the book. Maybe it _was_ too cruel, maybe he should just burn it. He started to conjure a fire to do just so, but maybe it would bring Aziraphale closure as well.

He felt the summons of hell, and looked around his flat for the final time, before vanishing.

\-----

The battle

\-----

Crowley was made breathless at the sight of his love, glowing with energy, looking the warrior angel he was. He was grateful he got to see him like that, even though he wished the circumstances were different. The sides surged forward, but he just sauntered forward, there was no need to rush to his doom.

It wasn't long before he was lost in a haze of self-interest in living, glasses long since lost, anything that moved near him was assumed an enemy until proven otherwise, and it wasn't unfounded as he caught glimpses of various demons abandoning others or manipulating them closer to stronger angels.

The tide was turning, just as he knew it would, more angels than demons surrounded him, He started to feel a panic set in, because in the end nobody was truly ready to die. His fighting became more erratic, sending blood and feathers flying around the battlefield around him. His senses stretched to their max, focusing on an sign of danger. He felt the blade coming at him from the side, and spun, ready to decapitate whoever was there and came up short at the sight of his angel.

He shouldn't be that surprised, he always knew where Aziraphale was, like a tether, it was how he knew he was still alive in this madness, and he was glad for it.

But the sight of his friend-his _love_ , with an unreadable expression, coming at him with a sword, was one that would haunt him for the rest of the time he did have. Part of him wondered if Aziraphale recognized him at all or if he was lost in a battle haze like he had been, wondering if he'd been wrong all along. Had he meant so little that he didn't even hesitate to smite him down?

~~At least that made his plan easier. For all that it hurt.  
~~

Aziraphale's expression hardened as he swung at him again and he fumbled at the deflection, which was sloppy and shouldn't have worked but it did, he looked at his angel for a moment in confusion, searching those blue eyes for a clue of what was going on.

_Oh_.

He wanted to fake fight. He couldn't be sure why, but the chance to be close, spend a few more minutes in Aziraphale's presence had him playing along easily, attacking back sloppily, to show he'd gotten the message. Aziraphale relaxed at that and his heart jumped, happy to have brought him even a little happiness in this madness.

He also spared a moment to pray for forgiveness for having doubted him. Not that there was a point to it, the praying, part of the job description and all, but it made him feel better.

Seeing his love in the flesh just solidified what he had to do, but...he would steal as much time as he could first.

The demons continued to dwindle as they fought, and he saw that instead they had started to gain quite the crowd. It had spilled before the battle that they were....companions, and all the angels wanted to know if Aziraphale was trustworthy. Would he be able to do what was needed in the end? The blood on the sword said he'd already taken down demons, but, the question on everybody's mind was if he would smite his companion of 6000 years.

_Lord, please, grant me just a couple more miracles, for_ him _._ he sent heavenward, truly feeling every one of those 6000 years in his spirit as the fight became harder and harder. Crowley just had to find that one moment.

Aziraphale steadied himself for a moment as Crowley stumbled forward, he saw the angel blink, and in that brief moment he willed a breath of movement from Aziraphale, a second miracle to subtly line himself up, and then his stumble continued.

Aziraphale's eyes opened as Crowley stood there, soul screeching in pain as the blade burned at his soul. He held onto his human form with will alone, watching detached as his angel released the blade which shifted inside him ever so slightly, bringing another wave of pain.

He heard the other angels disbelieving cries but louder than that he heard the broken. "Crowley." the emotion packed into his name drained him of the will to stand, and he fell back, blade scorching as it shifted up out of him, sending more bolts like lightning through his soul.

"Crowley-I-I-" his angel fell to his knees beside him, eyes brimming with unshed tears, and Crowley locked eyes with those beautiful blues, and smiled.

"Guess you were too fast for _me_ angel." Crowley is unable to stop himself from saying, still smiling at him as he reaches out and puts his bloody hand on top of Aziraphale's.

That seems to be all the angel can take as the tears start falling like rain. "C-C-Crowley-" he's cut off by his own sobbing.

His soul aches for him even as its burning away, feeling horribly guilty for hurting him like this, but he can't change it. "Sssh." its more of a hiss to his ears, "My side was always going to lose, my angel. There's no way I'd rather go." he tries to pat his hand comfortingly but he's already so weak it barely moves, fluttering uselessly instead. "Don't feel bad," he presses on, needing to make his ang-his love feel better, "You did nothing wrong, everything's going to be fine now."

"NOTHING's going to be fine!" Aziraphale snarls, sounding like the words were torn from his very soul. His hands hover above Crowley as though he's afraid to touch him. He wishes he would, even if it kills him he would like to feel his angel's touch a final time. Even now his foolish angel is worried about hurting him. His heart feels like it could burst, or maybe that's just the burning of his soul.

"But it is, heavens going to forgive you." he replies simply, "I'm sorry to have done this to you, but, I was going to die no matter what," he says softly, feeling himself fading fast, needing him to understand he choose this. "I wanted to at least, die doing something good."

The words seem to hit Aziraphale like a wall of bricks and he feels like the scum he is for it. "I've killed you and-and it doesn't matter if you caused it-and I've said such horrible things to you-you _are_ my friend Crowley," the words seem to be moving faster than the angel is thinking them, "Why didn't you just kill me," the words are spat with venom and he doesn't have the strength to explain how he could never harm him like that, that this is different from killing him, how he wanted his angel to be happy and loved and appreciated, "How could you ever forgive me instead and do something like this?" there's something unspoken there, he knows there is, Aziraphale is giving him the look that means there is, but he can't puzzle it out.

_I'm sorry._ he thinks, for hurting him, for being unable to understand what he's trying to tell him. Instead, as the holy energy digs into the remnants of him, he just says the truth.

"For _you_ angel, anything." he has a moment to be thankful he got those words out, and then-

\-----

_Aziraphale if you're reading this, I'm gone. And I'm gone for good, we both know it. This book is for you, only you can see it, only you can read it. Everything I wanted to say, all the questions I know you wanted answers to, they're in here. Read it only if you want to, after this first page. The thing I want you to know most, is just that, I love you. I have loved you for thousands of years, and I think you do know that but, just in case. I want to be able to die without regrets, and thinking you might know it for sure, that brings me peace.  
_

_There's no table of contents here, you can make one if you'd like ~~(as though you'd want to read this at all, let alone more than once)~~. But some things I've written for you include various moments through our history, why I did or said something, the Fall, the Before, what I can remember at least, though I must admit most of it is about stars, I hope you stargaze some day and see them the way I ~~do~~ did. I also explain the holy water business, explaining all the reasons I wanted it and why I didn't use it before ~~(its in the plants now)~~.  
_

_I'm sorry. I know what I have done will hurt you but, I didn't want to die at the hands of an unknown angel, I'm sure you didn't even swing at me, I made it happen. I hope you might ~~forgive me~~ understand why, eventually.  
_

_With all my love,_

_-Crowley_

The page is blotted with tears, the number only grows as its finally read by the recipient.

**Author's Note:**

> No happiness in my fics, only sadness. Thank you for reading. Please curse my name in the comments.
> 
> If you can't tell I have a lot of feelings about the holy water, many more fics will feature it I promise.
> 
> The original idea was for Crowley's only words to just be the 'for you' but then I was like 'WAIT what if a too fast callback' so I needed both in there.


End file.
